Guilty Pleasures
by fanoflost
Summary: Jack and Kate name off guilty pleasures and secrets. Pure Jate fluff. Caution: This is a dangerously fluffy story. Seriously, if fluff could kill you, then you would be so dead by the end of it.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Got this great idea for a story, and am currently writing it up at 12:30am. God, I must love you people. The ending to Capture the Flag should be up soon, I'm just putting the finishing touches on it._

**_Dedication:_** I dedicate this to LostRayne, who loves fluff. Enjoy, and I hope you gett better soon!

**Disclaimer:** Goes to the brilliant minds over at ABC, though since they don't care, I'll just borrow these characters for a while.

Guilty Pleasures  
_Summary:_ Jack and Kate name off some of their secrets and guilty pleasures. Jate.  
**Status:** One out of three chapters.  
August 28th-31st, 2005 (Hopefully, it'll be done by then. I'm starting school on tuesday, so the third chapter might be a little late) 

"I used to have a pet rock," Kate stated out of the blue one day. Jack turned and stared at her, stunned at this new side she had suddenly taken on to, "His name was Foop." It was true, at the age of six; Kate had really dragged around a rock wherever she went. It was her secret, and Foop had kept all her cravings safe, especially the one about Jimmy in the second grade.  
Jack had laughed, "Foop? What kind of name is that?" But he instantly caught on to where Kate was taking this. This'd become their game; Their secret.  
"Hey, it was a smart one at the time." Kate argued, her stubbornness getting the better of her this time.

"I have an odd fetish for chocolates," Jack mumbled next, blushing slightly. Kate had already let out a guffaw, and he was sure this was one of those moments where neither would let the other person live it down. "But milk chocolates are the best." Sometimes, he'd go into the gift shop at the hospital and buy himself a box just for the hell of it. He'd tear off the wrapping in the car, and allow himself a couple. But usually before the next stop sign, half the box would be gone. Weird thing was, he never gained a pound.

"I love George Clooney." Kate had managed to get out between blushes and looks, even a raised eyebrow from Jack. "What, I'm sure you love someone on the screen, too." She mumbled. As soon as she had saw Clooney on the fresh episodes of E/R, her heart was in his hands.

"I used to watch The Twilight Zone, or Outer Limits all the time," Jack grinned. Every night since his boyhood, Jack would scan the channels for reruns of the old TV show. His father had shook his head, and gone off into his study, letting Jack figure out the wonders of the remote for himself.  
Kate nodded her approval, for she had done the same.

"I stole garden gnomes and lawn chairs until I was 15," Kate announced. Every night, some random person's house on her street would get hit, and the next morning, one of their precious decorations would be gone. The shed out back was Kate's hiding place, for no one used it any longer.

"I wore a Star Trek t-shirt every day for about two months," His mother would come home every night to find a worn-out, faded blue rag sitting on top of the laundry bin, waiting to be washed and worn by her son the next day. Again, Christian Shepard would just turn his head on his son's odd ways of life.  
Kate had laughed out loud on that one; Outer Limits was one thing, but Star Trek? Completely different ballpark.

"I love warm sheets," Kate enlightened, making the game go on. There was one set of rules to this game, and those were only of honestly.  
Jack had nodded, he too remembered playing in the laundry when he was at a much younger age.

"On impulse, I have to sing in the shower." Jack blushed. Ever since he had heard that sing 'Margaritaville' on the radio at the feeble age of ten, he had sung it in the only safe place in his home. No one could hear his beautiful baritone voice over the monstrous roar of the water cascading down his bare back.

"Every time I see a bowl of brownie mix, I have to scoop my finger in and taste it," Kate grinned. Her hand still had the battle scars of getting slapped by her mother so many times. But the tears and rawness of the top of her hand was all worth it when she realized she had once again gotten to taste it. So far, a bowl hadn't got past her eye.

"I tried to sign up for the army," She sighed, a piece of her chestnut hair falling from her loose bun; long gone were the days of hair scrunchies on the Island.  
Jack gave her a look, once of those 'Why-the-hell-would-you-want to-do-that' looks that he reserved specially for her.  
Kate shook her head, motioning that it was true. At the age of eighteen, she would have done anything to get out of the house she once called her home. But the doctors had found numerous problems regarding her muscles, and let's face it; the army back then wasn't too hot on picking up fresh country girls.

"When I was in residency, I lived on coffee and TV dinners for a straight year," Jack laughed, remembering. The coffee machine in the Interns Lounge wasn't all that great, so sometimes him and a buddy would sneak in the Main Lounge, and steal a couple cups. The couch in the lobby had become his temporary residence more then once, especially when Sarah came along.

"I can't stand poptart wrappers," She replied, "All that crinkling." Her brother used to open them up all the time, and a couple times it had drove her so insane that she had went outside and escaped to the fields until the little boy was done eating.  
Jack made a note in his head to never buy poptarts again.

"I love Frank Sinatra's singing," Jack said, grinning. A particular song had stood out on the radio when he was on his way to the airport on the day of the catastrophic flight.  
Kate started singing quietly, "The summer wind, came blowin' in, from across the sea. It lingered there, to touch your hair, walk with me." She grinned at the doctor sitting next to her, for he had the most surprised look on his face. "My mom used to play his records all the time," Was her answer.  
But Jack wasn't shocked at that, but of her decision of the song. It was the exact one he had heard on the radio.

"I don't believe in cell phones," She went on, like nothing had happened. It was true, she never used one if she could help it. It was pay phones, or nothing.  
Jack laughed, because he was sure his was ringing off the hook at the apartment right now. Doctors, his mother, Sarah, all wondering what happened to him.

"I keep out-of-date magazines in my apartment, use them as end tables," The doctor grinned. Everything from Entertainment Weekly to Travel magazines. He had pulled out all of Sarah's when she had left him earlier that year. It was his way of letting go of her.  
Kate only wished she could even get magazines. Her life as a fugitive hadn't left her much time to be herself.

"I burn everything I cook or make." Kate smiled back. "Believe me, if there was a way to burn turkey sandwiches, I'd find it."  
Jack laughed, "What about BLT's?"  
Kate joked, "Don't even get me started…"

"I'm a Republican," Jack instantly already knew the answer to this, and was fully prepared for the odd look he received from Kate.  
"I'm a Democrat." She retorted. She knew it was cliché to think, but opposites did have a tendency to attract.  
Jack just laughed, and looked to her for the new guilty pleasure she was about to share.

"I loved to draw," Kate told him. When she was younger, she'd get some paper and a pencil, and head out to the woods to draw the magnificent tree trunks. That was how she found her love for climbing trees also, for she had climbed many of them to get a decent view of the setting sun.

"I wanted to be Superman when I was a little kid," Jack laughed at himself. For a couple Halloweens in a row, he'd dress up as the familiar comic book character, and go door-to-door, begging for candy.  
But Jack never realized he was a superman. Not to the whole world, but to just one person who was sitting next to him at this moment in time. He'd probably never know how much he meant to her, but Kate knew she'd take a bullet for him in a heartbeat.

* * *

_A/N: In case you all don't know what a BLT is, and you have my dearest sympathies if you don't, its short for Bacon, Lettuce, Tomato. Capture the Flag will be updated tomorrow, as will this._

_Really sorry about the line spacing, but it'll make more sense later._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I'm now just getting into the groove of high school, so I'm glad you guys didn't berate me with hate mail, or e-mail saying "UPDATE YOUR STORIES, DAMMIT!" I'm so sorry it took that long to get used to, but I know kids who still get lost in the hallways, and we've been on school for six long weeks. It's just trying to get past about 2,500 other kids in about six minutes. That's the real thinker. ;)_

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Lost, Jack and Kate would have gotten together way before this. But I don't, now do I?

* * *

Dedication: This goes out to LostRayne, 'cause she's a great friend, both on and online! Love ya, girl! 

**Guilty Pleasures**  
_Summary: _Jack and Kate name off some of their secrets and guilty pleasures. Jate.  
Status: Two out of three chapters.

**Chapter 2**

The sun had long since set, and most of the survivors cuddled around the fire, soaking in its warmth and familiarity. The distant strumming of Charlie's guitar could be heard from across the caves, and the echo of an old Beatles song was not forgotten as people thought it was. But Jack and Kate still sat on the beach, their backs leaned against a flowing palm tree, and a torch stuck in the ground nearby their only source of light.

Amid the acquisitions they had taken from each other thoughtfully, they didn't know how to act. A warm sense of feeling had overcome the both of them, and they couldn't figure out if it was that old sense of passion burning once again, or the torch being so close to their faces. They hadn't felt anything for anyone else in such a long time that it was hard to identify what was exactly happening to the two of them.

All was silent for a time, while the fugitive and the doctor scrunched their faces, trying to think up of more secrets they could tell.

"I love biographies," Was the first thing out of her mouth. She had plenty of stories to tell, it was trying to figure out if Jack would disapprove of what she did that was hard part.  
Jack gave her a surprised look; he had never taken her for a reading chick, "Really? About who?"  
Kate shrugged, "Mostly about bands I used to like. Led Zeppelin, Motley Crue, I think I even got my hands on a Frank Sinatra one once." She gave him a small smile.

"I ate breakfast at Tim Horton's for a solid 3 years," Jack saved the details, but he could remember taking out at least a couple waitresses out for drinks after work. He inwardly grinned; they had been one hell of a party bunch.  
"For 3 _years_?" Kate was stunned. As much as she loved them, she couldn't imagine getting their breakfast that much.  
"Yeah, a Maple dip doughnut and a large black coffee," He named off his order. Funnily enough, he wouldn't mind having that right about now.

"Mmm... I know one. I have the biggest coffee addiction ever," Kate smiled at Jack. She always got coffee to go when she was on the run. She hadn't sat down in an actual cafe for about five, going on six, years.  
"That's not true," Jack bantered, as Kate gave him a look, "Because I hold the record for drinking the most coffee ever."  
"I doubt it," She shot back.  
"Hey, you're talking to the man who lived on Tim Horton's coffee."

Both took a sip from their water bottles to avoid laughter.

"I dance in my kitchen when I cook,"  
Kate's face was priceless, and she nearly choked on her giant gulp of water, "You're shitting me," She managed to get out whilst take deep breaths.  
"I shit you not," Jack grinned. One time, while cooking pasta, Jack was dancing to "Relax" by 'Frankie Goes to Hollywood' on the radio, and Sarah had walked in on him. It took hours to convince her he wasn't gay, but eventually he got through to her somehow. Their relationship wasn't the same after that.

"I once had a relationship online," Kate grinned. She had remembered the day the man had signed on. They had talked for hours upon hours, all sharing in common interests mainly. But then she figured out he had never moved once in his life. That was the end of it.  
Jack laughed out loud, "Who hasn't?"

"You know the whole Harry Potter phenomenon in the United States?" Jack asked, looking for any emotion in her face.  
"Yeah..." Kate picked her words carefully. Adults weren't exactly known to be as open as kids about Harry Potter.  
"...I've read all the books. Two times at least," Jack blushed. He was sure Kate was going to hold that little tidbit of information hostage for the rest of his life on the Island.  
The fugitive beamed, and what Jack heard next nearly killed him in shock, "So, what'd you think when Sirius went behind the black curtain?" She said this so effortlessly that Jack had to hold back a fit of chuckling.  
"I thought I read the paragraph wrong," Was all he said.

"I believe in ghosts," Kate went on. She remembered a time when she was a little girl that a frightening experience had happened to her, one she wished not to relive, and ever since then, she had her mind set on ghosts.  
"I don't," Jack replied. He thought the whole white sheet thing was just a load of crock, hopefully soon to be forgotten.  
"Touché," Kate smiled. She thought she saw Tom walking down an old alleyway once, in Sydney, long after he died, and when she took a second glance, he was gone.

"In high school, I was on the football team," Jack deadpanned, "Wasn't very good, mind you, but somehow dad got me on."  
"In high school, I worked in the library all the time. After school, before school... Study halls... Everything," Kate smiled, "Though I do have a hard time seeing you playing football."  
"Hey, I made some goals." Jack defended himself.  
Kate was amused, "I seriously doubt you made more then three."  
"...I made four." He bantered with her.

"I've gotten evicted from fifteen apartments sixteen times." Kate persisted. Now was not the time to get off track. Both were in a comfortable place, at a great time. Both had each other in their hands like silly putty with a child. Both knew that this would soon end, and they definitely knew that they'd probably never be this open with each other again.  
"How can you do that?" Jack's face was one of confusion.  
"I got the same apartment twice." Kate beamed. Her friend had gotten her a magnificent deal the second time, and her landlord had decided to go through with it. The third time Kate appeared on his doorstep, he had slammed the door with the parting words of "Cheat me once, shame on you. Cheat me twice, shame on me. Cheat me three times, shame on the fool."

"I subscribe to six different newspapers." Jack smiled, "And I keep every one of them, until the new year." It was true. He had seriously gone out one day, and filled out six subscription cards. He had meant them as gifts to other people, but upon forgetting their addresses, or zip codes, he had just filled them all out to himself. He liked to keep up with the news anyway.  
"Which ones?" Kate inquired.  
"The New York Times, Boston Globe, USA Today, Los Angelos Times, Washington Post, and," he paused for a moment, trying to remember the last one, "The Wall Street Journal."  
She smirked, amazed that he could remember everyone of them, even though they'd been on the Island so long.

"I can't feel anything in this pinky," She lifted up her left pinky, and smiled. At the young age of four, she had fallen down the stairs, and broken it. Surprisingly enough, she hadn't noticed this until it was too late to do anything about. Besides, she didn't use her pinky as much anyway.  
Jack laughed, "I've heard of those," He captured her hand in his, and gently bent the finger back, and she didn't even flinch.

Both felt something there, and they knew that when his hand left hers, an empty feeling replaced it.

"I jog three miles a day. Well, used to, anyway," Jack uttered, pressed his palms down into the ground, making imprints in the soggy beach sand. Ever since he was sixteen, he had done that. When they crashed on the Island, every morning he felt an impulse to do the same. But there was too little time, and much too many people complaining.  
Kate smiled, and dug her feet under the earth. She loved running. It was what she was made for.

"When I was younger, I tried out for City Council. This being before my life went to hell in a hand basket, of course," She countered. She remembered how proud she felt when she saw the name – her name – on the ballot. But also devastated when the results came in on the news that night. The proud feeling had been wiped away, and when it returned, which it never bothered to anymore, it wasn't the same. The devastation had never left Kate, and it grew as her life became more of a screw-up.  
"Wow, quite the little politician we have here. Never would have taken you for one," Jack replied.  
"Yeah, well I would have never taken you for a Star Trek fan either," She grinned, and looked towards the ocean.

"My friend and I used to play 'fireball'." Jack laughed, remembering the good old days where oil was so cheap you could practically use it for anything and everything.  
"Fireball?" Kate cocked her head, obviously interested, "This might be interesting. Do go on, good sir." She imitated a British accent perfectly, and smiled.  
Jack almost had to stop right there as he tried to overcome the fit of laughter bubbling in his stomach, "It's where you play catch with a tennis ball, in flames. Set my house on fire a few good times, and exploded plenty of things."  
Kate's mouth dropped open. She had figured Jack would of never done anything that fun when he was a kid. She always pictured him as the perfectly child who got A's on report cards, and dated the girl next door.  
"Hey, we all have some illegal moments in life," Jack said without thinking.

Kate snapped her mouth back closed, and shot a cold glare his way, "I set off fireworks off on December 23rd, at 11:42pm each year. It's a tradition."  
Jack made another mental note in his head to get some bottle rockets before firework season ended, and smiled. "Sounds like a nice tradition. Who started it?"  
"I did." She replied, "You know, when life got too much sometimes." She shrugged helplessly, and turned away.  
"No, I don't know." He wanted to hear what she had to say on this one.

Her head drooped, and he could tell that he had pried too much, but something in his mind said _'Keep on going, keep on going,'_ and the mantra didn't stop.

* * *

_A/N: Ahhh, left you at a cliffhanger. My deepest apologies, m'dears, but you'll just have to wait to hear the interesting story next time I decide to update. Sorry it took so long to get up, but as I said before, haven't had much time. Glad you people like it so much. :)_

_Again, sorry for the spacing. Also, the next chapter will be funnier. Swear. As they say, save the best for last. :)_


End file.
